Love to Love you
by Scarlett71177
Summary: Just one of many versions of Harry and Ginny's reunion at Bill and Fleur's wedding.


It was by far one of the most curious days Harry had ever experienced at number four Privet Drive; and that was saying something. In his nearly fifteen years at this miserable house there had been many unusual occurrences: a flying Ford Anglia, blowing up Aunt Marge, Mr. Weasley, Ron and the twins crashing in through the fireplace grate, Dudley's 'accidents,' Dementors swooping down the alley, and not to mention Dumbledore setting foot in this house just one year ago. Today was another milestone of sorts; Harry was leaving, and he was leaving this house a Wizard, in Wizard's robes, not pretending to be something he wasn't. What did he care, he was leaving. Forever.

His trunk was packed (with the exception of his Firebolt, which didn't fit, and his moneybag that resided in his left pocket,) Hedwig had been sent to the Burrow, and the room in which he'd been permitted to 'use' for the last five years was nearly empty. Every single thing Harry owned had been packed into his trunk, or disposed of. Harry sighed and took at seat on the edge of his trunk and took one last look around the room, life here had been a miserable existence, but he had promised Dumbledore…

Dumbledore. The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had died only six weeks ago, but it felt like the longest six weeks of Harry's life. For however long he lived, Harry knew the day of Dumbledore's funeral would be one of the worst days of his life. He had witnessed the death of his mentor, one of the few people who trusted him and believed in him without question. People like Dumbledore came along in a blue moon; they were special, unique, and wise. Harry knew he would never meet another "Dumbledore."

And then there was the other matter. Ginny. He had left Ginny in the midst of Dumbledore's funeral. Left her alone to deal with her own grief, left her alone to deal with the fact that he, Harry, had just broken up with her because he cared for her, and didn't want her to get hurt? He'd left her alone, quite literally, alone so he could go contemplate his plans.

That was almost two months ago, and they had not really spoken since. Harry rode the Hogwarts Express back to London feeling miserable and complacent. Ron and Hermione did not patrol the halls; there was no need, everyone was too subdued to create any mischief. Ginny rode home in the same compartment as he, Ron, and Hermione, but she said very little. She was not rude, she just leaned her head against the window for most of the ride home, gazing out at the countryside passing by. Harry couldn't help but think he deserved the defeated, hopeless feeling that was currently eating away at him. He'd done this, to both of them. She was the biggest source of hope and compassion that he had, and with a few words, he had ended that. In defence of Ginny's behaviour, no one really spoke much, there was nothing to say. Harry hoped he hadn't upset the finely tuned balance of their new quartet by breaking up with Ginny, but he had the feeling that his friends did not completely agree with Harry's noble notion, but wanted to keep the peace.

His spirited lifted a little, at least, when the lunch trolley came by. Harry, and most everyone else on the train, seemed to be drowning their sorrows in sugary sweets. He bought several Pumpkin Pasties and offered one to everyone in the compartment. Harry couldn't have been more pleased that Ginny took one, and her hushed 'thank you' was like a sad sonata to his ears.

Six long weeks ago. He received Owls from Ron and Hermione demanding to know why he broke up with Ginny, and reprimanding him for doing so (especially Ron!) and describing their disappointment in his behaviour, nevertheless pleading with him not to do anything rash, stating they would share some details that had occurred to them when they met up at Bill and Fleur's wedding on July 30. Harry made his plans conjointly. The wedding was a Saturday, his birthday was Sunday, he would be seventeen, and an adult. Monday morning when the Ministry Offices opened, he would go take his Apparition test, and from there head out toward Godric's Hollow.

So, there sat Harry Potter on the edge of his trunk, his Firebolt by his side, dressed in Wizard's robes for a wedding, waiting for Ron and Hermione to come get him on the last Saturday in July. He had arrived at this depressing house as a Wizard, in the arms of a Wizard, and he would be leaving it a Wizard, leaving with his two best friends.

Over the last month he spent much time in thought and preparation, writing notes to himself about Godric's Hollow, the Horcrux, and his sessions with Dumbledore. There were four Horcruxes left somewhere, and Harry decided he would attend Hogwarts his seventh year, and do research at the same time. When he had a lead on a Horcrux, he would leave; with or without permission from McGonagall. Upon it's location, he would return, and begin researching again- just as Dumbledore had. Inevitably, in the seriousness of his situation, his thoughts had drifted to Ginny. He was aching inside to see her, but he had reservations: What would she say when she saw him? What should _he _say back? Would she pretend that everything was fine, or that nothing had happened? Would he be able to keep a coherent thought in his head when he looked upon her?

He groaned, trying to push the memory of her from his mind, and looked at his watch. Ron and Hermione were due at any moment. He let out a heavy sigh and rose from the trunk. He patted the pocket of his trousers, feeling the gold locket that had resided on his person since the day he and Dumbledore had retrieved it. He didn't know exactly what he should do with it yet, but he thought the safest place for it to be would be with him at all times. Almost as if on cue, the doorbell rang.

Harry blew out the breath he didn't know he had been holding and took one last look around the lonely room. He supposed it would revert back to Dudley's second bedroom once again. Filled with his spoiled surplus and his broken electronics. He left the bedroom and hurried down the stairs.

Aunt Petunia stood at the threshold of the living room with a stunned expression on her face. "You're leaving, f-for good?" she inquired.

"Yes."

The doorbell rang again as Harry stepped around Petunia and strode toward the front door. He heard his Uncle bustle into the room, and Dudley loudly galumph down the stairs.

"What's the boy _doing_, Petunia?" His Uncle asked as Harry pulled open the door.

Ron, Hermione, Remus, and Tonks stood outside the door, all wearing their finest dress robes they had, and grins from ear to ear.

"Hiya, Harry!" Ron offered, making way for Hermione who had rushed past him and thrown her arms around Harry's waist. He hugged her gently in return.

"Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks exclaimed, letting go of Lupin's hand to wave at him. Harry was happy to see her hair was audaciously, cheerfully fuchsia once again.

Lupin blushed ever so slightly and reached over Hermione (who still clung to Harry) and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's wonderful to see you, Harry."

"Hi guys, come in," he greeted them hesitantly, but tears threatened his eyes at the ballooning excitement; he was about to leave this house. As each of them entered the spotlessly clean house they greeted Harry with hugs and handshakes and hushed greetings.

"_Petunia_, the boy!" Vernon hissed, but Aunt Petunia continued to stand almost stoically at the entry to the living room.

Harry closed his eyes, as if praying for only a few minutes more patience, and continued to ignore the scene behind him. "You guys have no idea how good it is to see you," he admitted. He meant every word of it, but he couldn't help but feel there was someone missing; Ginny.

"Are you all packed and ready to go?" Lupin asked, as Hermione, Ron, and Tonks looked around the house.

"Yes, my trunk is upstairs; it's too heavy for me to get by myself."

"That's fine, Tonks and I can manage it," Lupin answered. Neither one spoke to any of the Dursley's as they ascended the stairs, causing Dudley to panic for a split second and "flatten" himself against the wall and shut his eyes tight.

"Couldn't get rid of the Muggles today?" Ron asked, jerking his thumb at the Dursley's who stood by, flabbergasted at what was ensuing in their own home.

"No, I suppose I could have, if I wanted to, but I wanted them to be here for this," came Harry's reply.

"Excellent," said Ron, smirking and cracking his knuckles.

"Say boy, where are you going dressed like that?" Uncle Vernon demanded, putting his hands on his hips and surveying their attire.

Harry meant to speak up, but Hermione beat him to it. "Your nephew is one of the most powerful Wizards in the world, he's got a horrible burden on his shoulders, and at any time during the last few years he could have jinxed you so you didn't even know your own names, and _this_ is how you treat him?"

"Hermione, it's no use," Harry began, but he was pleased to see Uncle Vernon was open-mouthed and speechless. His moustache twitched irritably. "This is _normal_ for my family."

She shook her head angrily and looked from Uncle Vernon toward Harry. "These _people_ are not your family, Harry; they never bothered to treat you with any decency or respect. Families love each other. These people might be your blood relatives, but they're not your family, that honour belongs to Ron's family and me, and Hagrid, Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, Dumbledore, and countless others who love and care for you."

Harry was touched by her words and quickly mumbled an appreciative 'thank you,' but Hermione, evidently, wasn't finished.

"And you," she countered, taking a step toward the Dursley's, matching Uncle Vernon's stance, tears leaked from her brown eyes. "You should be ashamed of yourselves. There's never been anything wrong with Harry, it's you. Your biased, and bigoted, and just plain ignorant. There's nothing wrong with being magical, I was born to non-magical parents, but they learned how wonderful it could be. Harry is so special, Mrs Dursley, you've done your sister a severe injustice by not realizing that. What would she think of you now?"

Aunt Petunia seemed severely affronted that someone would dare ask her these penetrating questions in her own home, but she could not find her voice. Uncle Vernon did, however.

"Now see here, girl," he growled, raising a finger to Hermione.

"No, _you_ see here," Ron interrupted, stepping up behind Hermione. Ron towered over Uncle Vernon, and although Ron was not large, Uncle Vernon had to lift his head to meet Ron's eyes. "You're not talking to either of my friends like that. Harry might not be an adult Wizard for another day yet, but Hermione and I are." He brandished his wand proudly, and twirled it in his fingers. "Oh, the things we could do to you."

Harry was trying desperately not to crack a smile as Lupin and Tonks trudged down the stairs with his trunk and his Firebolt. He knew Ron was just leading his Uncle on. "What do you say, Harry, a good Rictusempra charm, huh? I think that would do the trick." Harry remembered using the 'Tickling Charm' on Malfoy during their short stint in the Dueling Club second year.

"Oh no, Ron, anything but that," Lupin added, his voice barren of any real concern.

"Rictusempra! What is that?" Petunia questioned worriedly, while Dudley placed one hand over his backside, and the other over his mouth.

"Ooh, I remember my Uncle got hit with one of those once," Tonks interjected, shaking her head slowly. "He never did really recover."

Uncle Vernon looked directly at Lupin. "You'd just stand here and let this, _this_, upstart jinx three innocent people?"

"You forget," Lupin said calmly. "I'm on Harry's side. I was good friends with James and Lily, and I'd do anything for Harry."

"Me too," Hermione put in.

"So would I," Ron growled, jabbing his wand toward the shocked family.

"And me," added Tonks with a wink toward Harry.

Harry was humoured, and touched. "It's OK guys, in a few minutes I'll leave this place, and I'll never waste another second thinking of them again for the rest of my life."

"Is that so? After all we've done for you?" His uncle countered, squinting his dark eyes at Harry.

"As I see it, I really don't have much to thank you for. I appreciate the fact that you _found it in your hearts_ to allow me room and board in a cupboard under the stairs for eleven years, and not quite five summers in Dudley's second bedroom, but that's about it. You can live without shelter, but the other people in this room gave me what people can't live without." Harry responded.

"What about the food, clothes, repairs to the house due to your meddling, not to mention the removal of Dudley's tail? Those things all cost money. That old man who called on the house much too late in the evening last summer mentioned you had equity; pay up, boy!"

Harry thought for a moment, and then reached inside his pocket. "Now that you mention it, I'm richer than anyone I know personally, magical or otherwise, I have lots of money. So, here you go." He retrieved several Galleons from the money bag in his pocket, and flipped them at his Uncle. They hit the ground with a heavy clunk, and spun little circles on the floor until they fell over. "There you go, it's gold." Harry knew it wasn't nearly enough to cover the 'costs' he'd racked up here, but the Dursley's didn't know that.

"What am I supposed to do with _that_? I'm sure the bank won't exchange it!" His Uncle spat.

"That's not my problem, is it? You just need to know where to go. This is your life, not mine. I'm a Wizard," Harry laughed maniacally, it was probably the first time he'd ever said those words aloud in this house. "I'm. a. Wizard." he punctuated each word clearly.

"You're leaving the house dressed like that? You'll attract attention! We'll be the laughing stock of the neighbourhood! I forbid it of you, and your freaky friends!"

"Oh yeah? And just what are you going to do about it?" Harry questioned sharply. "I came to this house a Wizard, and I'm leaving it as one."

Aunt Petunia clutched the neck of her blouse tightly in her bony hands and cleared her throat. "Just let him go, Vernon," she said meekly.

"But Petunia-"

But Aunt Petunia was only looking down at the carpet. "Let him go."

There was a moment of silence before Harry spoke up. "Are we going to Mrs Figg's then?"

"Yes, Harry," Lupin answered, indicating they should all be moving toward the door now.

Ron stowed his wand back in his pocket, but continued to scowl at Uncle Vernon, Hermione merely shook her head in the disappointed fashion Harry and Ron had become accustomed to over the years, and Remus and Tonks edged their way toward the front door. "Harry won't be back," Lupin finished.

"Good! We wouldn't take him back anyhow! Biggest mistake of our lives!" Uncle Vernon roared.

Harry countered. "I wish I could say the same, but you've been seriously inconsequential in my life, I've got much bigger things to worry about. You've all been mere nuisances." Harry, Ron, and Hermione all moved toward the door, but Harry turned around. "If Voldemort comes here looking for me- tell him I've left and won't be back, assuming you survive, that is. Goodbye." Harry closed the door behind him and stepped out onto the porch of number four Privet Drive as a free man.

"That was hilarious, Harry!" Ron sputtered, doubled over in laughter.

"Ron!" Hermione admonished him, "In all seriousness, that's a possibility."

"C'mon you three, Molly will be worried sick. We shouldn't be flaunting ourselves on the streets anyhow." Lupin cautioned the trio, leading them from the porch toward the sidewalk.

Harry never turned around and looked back as they left number four, walking the short distance to Mrs Figg's house. "I'm sorry about all that, Harry," Hermione began cautiously, her eyes darting toward Harry's to judge his reaction.

"It's OK, I'm flattered, by things all of you said. I'd do the same for all of you," he answered, finally putting a smile on his face.

"We know Harry," Ron answered, patting Harry on the back.

Harry took a deep breath and exhaled softly, he looked down at his attire and beamed. "It's so strange to be walking down Privet Drive dressed like this. You guys all look great, by the way, everything set for the wedding this afternoon?"

Everyone sighed and groaned. Ron spoke up first. "Well, aside from the fact that Mum is treating everyone like her own personal House Elves- oh shut it, Hermione, and she's got the personality of a Manticore these days, she's threatened all of us with bodily harm if we didn't cooperate. To think we left her there with Gin-"

Ron stopped talking immediately and looked discreetly over at Harry and Hermione. Lupin and Tonks looked over their shoulders.

"And how is Ginny?" Harry asked quietly, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looked pointedly down at the sidewalk.

Hermione coughed politely and folded her hands. "Well, to be honest, not that great."

Harry winced, this is what he was afraid of. The last thing he wanted was for Ginny to move on with her life and be happy with Dean Thomas, or someone else, but he didn't want her to be a train wreck either. Harry shifted his gaze from the sidewalk to Ron first and then Hermione.

"She's doing a decent job of putting up a good front. For someone who didn't know Ginny, they might say she was normal, but we know better. I don't really think she wants Ron's Mum, or any of the other boys, to know anything, but everyone knows there's something wrong. She hasn't really talked about it, even to me."

Harry made an affirmative grunt, but said nothing, preferring to look down at the sidewalk as he followed behind Lupin, Tonks and the trunk.

"Why'd you have to do it, Harry?" questioned Ron. "I mean, I understand the basic idea, but now both of you are nearly miserable."

Harry sighed. "I did it for her own good. People I care for just seem to get hurt, and she's the last person I want to see hurting." He instantly realized how stupid that sounded; he was the one who hurt her.

"So that was a pre-emptive hurt? Forgive me Harry, but that's rather- stupid," Hermione responded. "Besides, what's the difference between Ginny, Ron, and I? We all care about you, yes you've pushed Ron and I away before, but-"

Harry thought _For starters, I've never kissed you or Ron_ but he didn't say it. He kicked a rock down the sidewalk, careening by Lupin and Tonks. "Ginny is just- different, that's all. And who said I didn't regret dragging you and Ron through this whole mess? It's not fair to you either, but now you both do it with or without my permission. You can't say that you want those things for Ginny; to see what you've both seen. I can't imagine that they don't haunt your nightmares like they do mine. Ron, do you want Ginny to go through that?"

Ron didn't have time to answer, as Lupin spoke up first. "Harry, what did I do to Tonks all year?" he asked without turning around. When he heard no reply from behind him, he answered his own question. "I spoke for her, I didn't give her a chance to speak her mind. I was trying to protect her from things neither one of us can control. It took watching Bill Weasley's attack, and Fleur's subsequent behaviour to make me see. Tonks is capable of making her own decisions."

"Aww, thank you Remus, that's lovely," Tonks replied, grinning from ear to ear. "And Harry, people speak volumes without saying a word. Sometimes you have to open your _eyes_ to listen." Tonks finished by stumbling over the rock Harry had kicked up ahead of them. "Shit, oops! Sorry."

_Open your eyes to listen?_ What on earth was Tonks talking about? But suddenly a thought struck him. Tonks looked a thousand times better with Remus than without him, even though he was trying to protect her from himself. Her entire physiology had changed, drastically so, and surely the guilt had eaten at Lupin, just as it was consuming Harry now.

Hermione put her arm through Harry's, holding him back for a moment. She looked in his eyes with a certain amount of bravery and defiance. "Let Ginny talk, all right, Harry? All you need to do is listen, nothing more. She knows how you feel and what you're up against. Dumbledore thought it was a good idea to share your feelings, what you're facing, with your friends. Wasn't Ginny a friend before she was anything else? Won't she still be your friend when it's all over?"

Harry swallowed and pushed his glasses up further on his nose. He didn't want it to be over with Ginny; he didn't want to be 'just friends' with her either. It was true though, they had built up a friendship first and he'd learned at the Ministry of Magic, that he could count on her just as he could Ron or Hermione. _But what if Voldemort found out? What if he could feel it? What if he already knew about her?_ Inevitably his thoughts drifted to the night Dumbledore died. Harry had chased Snape from the Castle and had confronted him on the school grounds. "Keep your mouth shut, and your mind closed!" Snape's words were prophetic now. It wasn't as simple as Ron, Hermione, Lupin, and Tonks made it out to be.

"It's- complicated," Harry offered, pausing dramatically to gauge Ron's reaction. "Ginny's just different."

Hermione grabbed his arm and spun him around to face her. "Do you love her, Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head. "Hermione, you saw the house that I grew up in. There's no love there. I'm not even sure I know what love is! I do know that I don't want to ruin anything for Ginny. She deserves something real, whole, and unspoiled."

Ron exhaled loudly with an air of frustration and began walking again, but Hermione put her hands up on Harry's shoulders and held him away at arms distance. "Harry, be reasonable. Ginny will be at Hogwarts-"

Harry made to interrupt, offering to point out that Draco "Death Eater" Malfoy had personally invited Voldemort's minions into the Castle, and students had almost died in the process. Worse yet, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had been forced to defend themselves to the point that their precious lives were at stake. However, Hermione did not let him break in.

"Harry, Hogwarts is reopening, the students who caused trouble will not be allowed back, and the school wouldn't be opening if it weren't safe again. Besides, anything that Voldemort would find useful- he'll already know. Surely Malfoy, Zabini, or someone else will have told him. Just let Ginny decide where she wants things to go, OK? She's brilliant, and accomplished, and she can defend herself nearly as well as any, or all of us that studied with you in the D.A. So please, just consider it, all right?"

Harry blew out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and looked at Hermione, and then up toward Ron, Lupin, and Tonks nearing Mrs Figg's. "I don't know, Hermione."

A smile crept across her mouth and she dropped her hands. "Just think about everything before you do anything. Promise you'll listen."

A gentle beckoning from Lupin caused Harry to answer quickly. "Yeah, OK."

* * *

After a brief chat with Mrs. Figg, Ron, Hermione, Tonks, Lupin, and Harry all Floo'd to the Burrow for the Wedding. Harry and Lupin Floo'd last, letting Harry panic for the maximum amount of time before actually arrived in the Weasley house. _Would Ginny be in the living room? Would she greet him? Would Mr and Mrs Weasley treat him the same way?_ He sighed heavily as Lupin gestured for him to step inside the fireplace, took a handful of Floo Powder, and threw it at his feet. He instantly zoomed through the Floo in a hazy, green smoke, hurtling toward the Burrow. The rapidly passing grates left him feeling woozy and disoriented, and he stumbled out of the fireplace with a loud "Oof!" as he entered the Weasley living room.

Hermione quickly righted him and cast a quick _Scourgify_ charm on Harry's dress robes. Travelling by Floo definitely had its disadvantages. He sputtered a little, exhaling dust from his lungs, and removed his glasses to clean the lenses. The room instantly went into a mottled haze around him; dark, shapeless colours and forms blurred together creating a dreamlike world until he replaced the black frames on his face.

The room was instantly clear, and the familiar homey atmosphere flooded his mind with pleasant thoughts again. With a heavy heart he noticed that all of the hands on Mrs Weasley's clock still pointed toward 'Mortal Peril.' A thought burst into his mind: Ginny was in danger, even here at the Burrow, away from Harry, where she should be safe. They were all in danger, no matter what. Harry sighed and thanked Lupin and Tonks for agreeing to retrieve him, and for bringing his trunk to the Burrow.

"No problem, Harry, glad you're here, I'll just send your trunk upstairs." Tonks offered giving Harry a pat on the back and flicking her wand at the trunk, sending it to hover up the winding, narrow staircase.

"C'mon up," Ron gestured, jerking his thumb at the stairs. "We'll put your things away, otherwise Mum will put us to work."

Hermione shook her head. "I'd better go out to the garden and see if I can help."

At the sound of Hermione's voice, Tonks instantly perked up. "Oh! I'll go help too!" she offered excitedly.

Remus and Harry exchanged a smile before Lupin excused himself to join Hermione and Tonks. Ron led the way up the staircase, the stairs creaking loudly under his feet. Harry swallowed hard, and paused briefly at the third landing, where Ginny's room was, where he had first seen Ginny at the Burrow so many years ago. He quickly picked up his pace when Ron looked over his shoulder at him.

Ron's room looked exactly as Harry remembered it, only cleaner! "Mr and Mrs Delacour are staying in Percy's room, Ginny and Hermione are staying together, Bill and Charlie are together, Fleur and her sister are in the twins old room, and the twins are just Apparating to and from Diagon Alley."

Harry and Ron lifted Harry's trunk from the walkway, and they moved it to the foot of Ron's bed. Ron let the chest clunk on the floor and turned to look out the window into the garden below. Harry was picking up on his tense behaviour.

"Look Ron, I'm sorry, OK."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to!" Ron answered, raising his voice, whirling around to face Harry, who stood helplessly near the door.

Harry was flabbergasted, Had Ron been holding this in all day, all summer, just to tell him off in person? He had hoped Ron would understand he was protecting Ginny. "I thought if there was anyone who'd understand this, it would have been you, Ron. I care about Ginny, I don't want her to get hurt. I know it seems stupid, but I really am looking out for her best interest."

Ron growled and pulled at his hair. "Dammit, Harry, I know you are, but it's not helping. I think, if anything, it's making things worse." Ron began pacing across the narrow room on the already threadbare carpet. The sounds of his footfalls were heavy, and rattled the windows in the bedroom.

"Look what happened to Cedric. Look what happened to Sirius, and- Dumbledore. They all died just so that Voldemort could get to me; to lure me somewhere. Innocent people have died, Ron, and Ginny's the most innocent of all. I saved her once, what if I can't do it again? Would you rather she date the Boy Who Lived, or die because he couldn't save her?"

The words were harsher than he'd intended them, but they were true, it was how he felt. It was quickly becoming his biggest fear. He'd been lucky the first time; he had help. It had been a long time since either of them had thought of the Chamber of Secrets, that seemed like another life- something completed so long ago, it was unreal. Back then Ginny had been just Ron's sister, and a nice girl he'd recently made acquaintance with. It never occurred to him that Ginny would become anything more, it just wasn't important at the time.

"I'm sorry for that, it's just that- to be honest, I'm terrified." Harry had never spoken quite so intimately with Ron, especially in regards to Ginny. He hoped no one else had heard his outburst, surely he would be even more of an abomination on this amazing family.

Ron ducked out of the way of the window, and sunk down onto his bed. "Harry, nothing ever happened to Hermione, or me. Dumbledore never asked you to distance yourself from anyone, so why are you? You aren't pushing me or Hermione away, so what's the difference with Ginny?"

A loud bellow reverberated from the yard below. "Ronald!"

"For crying out loud," Ron mumbled, rolling his eyes. "I'd better go see what she wants."

Harry pasted a smile on his face. "Want some help?"

Ron returned his smile and pushed himself up off the bed. "Eh, you better wait. There's no telling what she'll have me do. Besides, it might be something stupid and I'll be right back. If I need some help I'll holler."

Harry nodded in affirmation as he watched Ron walk out the door; there was no point in following him, or arguing. Ron wasn't angry, he was concerned. He wasn't holding a grudge, he was just being Ron. Harry crossed the room to the window, and looked down into the garden below. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Charlie and the twins were all moving tables and chairs around a gazebo, Hermione was magically hanging flowers and decorating around the gazebo. Harry wondered where Bill, Fleur, and the other Delacour's were. He wondered where Ginny was.

There was a creak out in the hallway behind him, and Harry spun around to see what the noise was. Out in the corridor stood Ginny.

"Oh, Harry, I'm, um, sorry." She was frozen in place, just as if she had begun to turn around and walk away from him. Her eyes were wide and surprised, and her lips were parted in mid speech.

Harry was wordless. Ginny was dressed in new dress robes of the palest gold, her hair was twisted up and secured with a pearl barrette. Her face was tanned and freckled, and her lips were the most delicious shade of pale raspberry. To say she was breathtaking was an understatement.

"Wait," Harry whispered, trying to find his voice and taking a hesitant step toward her. "You look- beautiful."

Ginny blushed and looked down at the floor, she folded her hands, trying to restrain herself from fidgeting. "Ah, thank you," she murmured, scuffing the toe of her gold shoes on the floor. "I'm sorry, I was looking for Ron, Mum's calling for him."

"He already went downstairs," Harry answered, wanting so desperately to just take her into his arms and hold her close.

"Oh," Ginny replied vaguely, letting her eyes dart quickly toward Harry and then back to the floor. "Sorry to bother you then."

She turned to leave, but Harry did _not_ want her to go; he wanted her to just stand there, like an angel, so he could look upon her. She was so comforting, understanding, and gentle, it was as though she could solve any problem. If it couldn't be done by crying, then she'd try humour; if it couldn't be done by sympathy, then she'd try rage. She could read people unlike anyone Harry had ever known. "Ginny-"

Ginny stopped and returned to the doorway, hesitantly casting her eyes toward Harry. "Yes?"

Harry still didn't know what to say, he didn't know what he thought or felt anymore after speaking with Ron and Hermione. He decided to just tell her what was on his mind. He sat down on Ron's bed and let his head fall into his hands. "I don't know what I'm doing, Ginny. I don't know what to say, or think, or feel anymore."

He pulled his hair tight and lifted his head to meet Ginny's brown eyes; they were teary. "It's OK, Harry, I don't want to be the reason you're distracted, I don't want to be the reason you can't do what lies in store for you, I don't want to hold you back. I know that you're doing your best, I know you're doing something good, and honourable. Don't worry about me, I understand. And you'll be fine too."

She forced a cool, unwelcome smile to grace her face, trying to appear strong, as she turned and departed. Harry sat alone again, unsure of what just happened. He was too flabbergasted to speak up, or go after her. "Wha-" he said to himself as Ron thundered up the stairs and reappeared in the bedroom.

"What'd you do?" Ron asked, shaking his head.

"I don't know," Harry answered truthfully. "I guess I didn't say much, I said she looked pretty and then I said I was confused and I didn't know what to feel."

Ron shrugged. "I don't think that's bad, what'd Ginny do?"

Harry grimaced, and when he spoke his voice was unsure. "I think she almost cried. She sorta said she'd step back and let me go- I think." Harry flopped back onto the bed and sighed.

"We'll ask Hermione," Ron affirmed with a head nod toward Harry.

"I tried, I just don't know what to do," Harry lamented, pulling at his hair again.

* * *

Despite what Ginny thought, Harry was not fine. Every time he looked at her, he felt like the Hogwarts Express had just flattened him on the track. The emotional pang of seeing her was worse than the throbbing lump on the back of his head, courtesy of Fred and George, 'for breaking up with ickle Ginny.' Regardless of the twins brand of punishment, no one else in the Weasley clan seemed to heckle him, and that was an enormous comfort. He imagined they all thought he was a terrible person for toying with Ginny's heart and then leaving her just when they might need each other most. He anticipated some stern looks, and maybe even a 'telling-off' from Mrs Weasley.

After the tense hours of set-up on the lawn, the guests arrived, few of whom Harry knew, and the wedding went off without a hitch. Harry had never seen a Muggle wedding, let alone a Wizarding wedding, and he was most impressed. Ginny and Ron were both in the wedding party, and he was finding it difficult to concentrate. Hermione elbowed him a few times with a distinct smirk on her face.

Harry would never admit to Ginny that Phlegm, er, Fleur looked beautiful, and he could see where the Veela got her looks from. Madame Delacour easily looked half her age. Bill's wounds had healed over, but as Harry well knew, the scars would never go away. Bill was strong, and he would get used to the stares from random strangers, hushed whispers, and forthright questions. Besides, he had someone standing by him who would love him no matter what, a source of comfort who wouldn't leave him stranded. Ginny had been his source of comfort too, but he never stopped to think that maybe, possibly, he had been hers too.

He looked across the yard where a receiving line was set up and the guests were congratulating the happy couple. Ginny was lingering in her seat, slouched down with her hands resting on her stomach, the pink bouquet of flowers on the chair next to her. Her head lolled off the back of the chair, and Hermione was prattling on incessantly. He could guess what they were talking about. _Him_ He felt the typical pariah. Ginny's face was not tearstained, and Harry found himself feeling very disconcerted about that. He didn't want her crying over him, she was too strong for that, but he desperately wanted to know that she still felt the very same about him; that she wouldn't go to someone else for comfort. He continued watching until Ginny sighed and caught sight of him staring. She quickly righted herself and took one last glance at Harry before attempting to look as though she'd paid attention to Hermione the entire time.

Harry continued to just sit in the empty row of chairs, watching everything ensue around him: typical congratulatory remarks, laughing, hugs, and happy tears. Harry did not want to infringe on this scene; he couldn't be happier for Bill and Fleur, but truthfully, he didn't want to be a part of it right then. He just wanted to sit here and watch Ginny from afar.

Not too long afterward, Ginny got up, put a smile on her face, and continued her duties as host family and bridesmaid, helping her mother and brothers ready dinner and the evening entertainment. At that point, Ron and Hermione rejoined him, slumping into chairs on either side of Harry.

"Hey, I heard Gabrielle Delacour asking about you, Harry," Ron offered, trying to sound helpful, and apologetic.

"Ron- she's eleven," Harry answered, looking at his friend incredulously. "Honestly. I don't want her, I want Ginny."

"Then why are you being such a- git," Hermione responded, slapping Harry's leg. "She wants you too. She's trying so hard to be strong, for you- I might add, and she was hurt by what you said to her upstairs."

Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. He stammered out incoherent babbles before raking his hands through his hair and finding his voice. "What did I do? I tried to be honest, I tried to tell her I was confused about how I felt, and I sensed that she somehow took it the wrong way, but I meant well!"

Hermione winced. "Oh, Harry. It was just a little insensitive, that's all. I know you meant well, but Ginny is going through a rough patch. She's trying so hard to be brave because she knows you need it, but I think she misinterpreted your words. She thought you meant you had rethought your feelings for her in general, as in a mistake-"

"That's not true!" Harry yelled, rising from the chair, looking around at all the strange faces staring back at him. His eyes quickly swept the yard, looking for Ginny, but she wasn't there. "I would never rethink my feelings for her," he admitted, sinking back down into the chair. "This is so stupid."

Hermione smiled, looking hopeful, and ducked her head to make eye contact with Harry. "So does that mean you're willing to talk to Ginny again?"

Harry felt his shoulders slump autonomously. "I already tried, didn't I? I didn't succeed too well."

As the food was brought out onto large tables and slowly, row by row, the chairs were magicked around the long tables where the guests were about to partake of the wedding feast. Harry didn't wait for Ron or Hermione as he rose from his own chair, taking it with him to the tables. He slumped into his new location and saw that the Wedding Party was to sit on the other side of his table, but further down the row. He sighed with defeat; was there any way to escape Ginny Weasley?

Ron and Hermione joined Harry, taking a seat on either side of him, as the rest of the guests filled in the various empty seats. For some time, the harping stopped while Ron shovelled dinner into his mouth and described to Harry and Hermione who all these guests were. Associates of Bill and Fleur, members of the Delacour family, and members of the Weasley-Prewett family, who were easy to spot due to their red hair. During the meal Harry finally saw some people he knew from Hogwarts, or from the Ministry: Headmistress McGonagall, Hagrid, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus and Tonks, of course, and some of Mr Weasley's new co-workers. Several times Harry caught Fleur's cousin, Pierre, glancing at Ginny with a shy smile on his face. The now familiar beast roared inside him, eager to sink claws or teeth into this admirer. He decided when dinner was over, that he would conveniently nip upstairs and get his Invisibility Cloak and scare the daylights out of this hooligan. He didn't want anyone looking at Ginny.

With dinner completed, and dusk setting in, some of Bill's friends gathered together under an awning on a temporary dance floor with some musical instruments. The decorations and some fairy lights had been moved inside the tent where dancers were eagerly gathering. Once again, Harry sat slumped in a chair, shooting daggers at Pierre Delacour, who looked absolutely terrified. Ron and Hermione were dancing together, and looking quite smitten with one another. Tonks and Remus looked absolutely enamoured of each other; they both wore identical smiles, and their arms were draped around each other in a completely comfortable fashion. Inside Harry was pleased, about both relationships, but he was sure he looked mopey on the outside. He looked around for Ginny, who was smiling and talking to Hagrid. They shared a love of animals, although Hagrid's taste proved to be a bit more extreme. Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time with the exception of him, and that decision was self-imposed. Just when he thought he might disappear into the house, and just wait out the rest of his stay in Ron's bedroom, Hermione appeared at his side.

"Can I point out one last thing? Mind you, if you say no I'll say it anyway." She was trying to be funny, but the elbow jab to Harry's ribs was anything but humorous. "What would Sirius say if he could see you now? Hmm? I think he'd be shocked at you. You're shutting Ginny out, Harry, and worse, you're closing yourself off again. If you have any hope of fixing your relationship with Ginny, then you have to be honest with her; she deserves that much. You've confided in all of us, tell Ginny what's going on; maybe it'll make things easier for her to understand. She thinks you don't trust her, you don't think she's capable, and she's worried you don't feel the same way about her anymore."

"But-" Harry protested, feeling the hackles rise on the monster inside of him.

"I know, Harry. I know you're worried about Ginny, but what would it hurt if you were together? You meant a lot to one another; it's obvious. We already know that Voldemort can't bear to invade your mind anymore, your scar hasn't hurt all last year. So if you and Ginny were together, and Voldemort invaded your mind again, you would know it. Your scar would burn, and we could increase the safety around Ginny."

This was something that had never occurred to Harry. His scar was an alarm of sorts, wasn't it? The question was: Could he depend on that alarm system? Enough to risk Ginny's safety? Her life?

"I don't know, Hermione," Harry replied worriedly, cracking his knuckles and looking down at the grass beneath his feet. The thought was so appealing.

"She just rounded the corner of the house toward the front yard. At least go talk to her, clarify your position. She deserves that, if nothing else."

Harry felt his resolve breaking. He knew if he followed Ginny into the front yard, under the starlit sky, that the temptation to pick up where things left off would be so great, he was unsure he could control himself. "OK," he relented, rolling his eyes, and pushing himself off the chair.

He avoided Hermione's sparkling eyes, knowing full well she was in 'I told you so' mode, and crept quietly around to the front of the Burrow. His feet softly crushed the lush grass under his feet as he approached her. She was hugging herself gently, staring up at the clear night sky. Not wanting to startle her, Harry cleared his throat, coughed, and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he approached.

Harry stood next to Ginny, but she said nothing, and it left him startled. Was she ignoring him? Was she lost in thought? Was this worse than he ever imagined? He opened his mouth to whisper her name, but she spoke first.

"I always liked Pegasus," Ginny declared, still gazing upward, choosing not to look at Harry. "He always represented freedom, and bravery to me. There were so many times I wanted to fly away on the back of my own winged horse."

"Like now, since I got here?" Harry inquired shamefully.

"Never," Ginny admitted quietly. "Just like that winged horse you represent freedom and bravery, and I envy you for it. Even when you're all riled up, or moody there's something so calming about you. Like you could make every little thing better somehow. I know that's unrealistic, and untrue, but I can't help but feel better when you're around."

Harry turned to look at her, and upon inspection there wasn't anything about her that was not perfect in his mind's eye. "I feel the same way. Just by your presence you give me something that no one else has ever been able to do- comfort. Being here, standing next to you washes all my fears away and makes the inevitable seem possible."

"Then why are you ditching me?" she rounded on him, breaking her resolve. The tears that had been threatening since Harry's arrival that morning had crested over the edges of her eyes, and she was holding herself a little tighter.

"Because I care! God, can't anybody see that?" Harry lamented aloud. His eyes were dark behind his frames and his jaw was set firmly. "I would just collapse in on myself and admit defeat if anything happened to you; I couldn't handle it. You're so good, and beautiful, and smart."

Ginny looked at him with contempt and confusion. "_Tchah_," she said, making a reprimanding sound with her mouth, and shaking her head back and forth. "I'm sorry, but if you're trying to break up with me you're doing a really shitty job. Am I supposed to take you seriously? 'You're good, beautiful, and smart,' yeah, those really sound like good reasons for breaking up with someone, Harry."

Harry took to pacing next to her, listening to her sniffling over the sound of the band in the backyard. He was thinking of a good argument, thinking of something convincing to say when she spoke up again.

"Can I tell you something without scaring you away further?"

Harry stopped dead in his pacing, and turned to her, sensing what she was about to say was of the utmost importance. "You can tell me anything."

"The scariest thing I've ever done was letting you go, and I'm not talking about last month. When I realized I couldn't love Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived; The Chosen One, I was terrified. I had loved that person for my entire life, I had defined myself by him, and he barely knew I was alive. I was so scared to give up the hope I had, and looking back, I never really gave up hope; you were still in my prayers, but I wanted you to see me, not Ron's little sister. It wasn't some well-thought out plan, it wasn't a scheme, but it worked. When I became myself around you, faults, strengths, and all, something happened; I sensed it. You began to treat me just like everyone else: you got mad at me, you laughed with me, we finally had things in common, and we were both wound up in other people." she sighed, waiting to gauge his reaction to her honesty, and when he continued to stare in admiration, she continued in a shaky voice.

"Do you remember the day we first met? We were at Platform 9 ¾, and it was a sunny, autumn day. I thought you were so cute, asking Mum for directions, I never would have thought that someday I would kiss The Boy Who Lived. I don't want to be a burden in your life, Harry, and if by hanging around I make your life more difficult- then I'll walk away, leave you alone, and, if it helps, pretend that kiss never happened; that's how much I love you. I got to know Harry, just Harry, and I realized he was the person I wanted to know all along; not the Chosen One, not The Boy Who Lived. I loved Harry all along."

Harry was consciously aware that something amazing, or cosmic had happened. For the first time in his memory, someone had told him that they loved him. Surely his mother and father had done so, but those precious thoughts were never intended to be recalled. And now, Ginny Weasley stood in front of him, crying, and she had said the phrase he had waited a lifetime to hear.

Ginny hung her head shamefully, her chest heaved from the emotion of it all, it wasn't just any confession. It was something that had built, grown, changed, and come to fruition in her soul for years. It was something that would never transfer to someone else; not with the same impact. "I'm sorry," she breathed through sobs.

Harry began to shake, the walls were crumbling down, and it was terrifying. His throat clenched, he could not speak, and tears welled up in his vivid green eyes, clouding everything around him. He took a very hesitant step toward Ginny, but caught himself. "Gin, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. Honestly. I would love to love you like that, but I don't know if I know what love is, or how it works. **No one** has ever told me that before. You have no idea what it feels like to hear those words. The last few years of my life there's been this evil hanging over my head and I've been too scared to feel anything else. I pray every day for a little more time, to be able to feel all the things I've repressed my whole life."

Ginny looked up at him through teary eyes. "Time will make everything all right, and I have faith in you."

"That's why I need you here, safe," Harry began, finally stepping closer. "I need to know there is someone good, and beautiful, and smart who loves me. Someone I can come home to, and when I see her, take her in my arms and tell her how much I love her. I need to know you're safe so I can continue on."

"But what about me?" Ginny inquired. "Have you ever considered that I feel safer with you?"

Harry was speechless; he had never considered this. It was startling to consider he made anyone feel safe. "I, er, had no idea."

Ginny sniffed loudly, brushing the tears from her cheeks. "Well, no offence, Harry, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to think of how even your everyday decisions affect the people that care about you most: Ron, Hermione, and- me. We know you mean well, but pushing us away, even when you think it helps, hurts."

Harry shook his head and swallowed hard. "I don't mean to hurt anyone, least of all you, Hermione, and Ron. I can't imagine my life without any of you. I have an unbelievable task set in front of me, Ginny, and I just couldn't bear the thought of knowing I had to complete it without your support."

"I'll always support you, Harry, no matter what our status is. You're my hero, and I don't mean The Boy Who Lived, or The Chosen One, I mean _you_. It was you that came down into the Chamber to bring me back. It was you who said 'please don't be dead.' It was you who went to the Ministry to rescue Sirius and got us all out of there alive. I care for you enough to just let you go, Harry, but I know those feelings will never go away."

The damn broke. Harry cut the distance between them in two steps and grabbed Ginny by the shoulders pulling her in his arms, comforting her and stopping her crying. "Shh," he whispered softly, feeling her chest continue to contract as her tears ceased. Harry let his chin rest on Ginny's shoulder and stroked the back of her neck. He could feel his shirt soaked with her tears, and hoped he would never know that feeling again unless they were happy ones. "Just knowing you believe in me makes me believe in myself. It gives me hope that I might win, and you might be here when I come back. I would never ask you to wait for me, but I think I could live forever just on the hope that there would be this beautiful, smart, red head happy, eager, and praying to see me return."

Ginny gently pushed away from Harry's chest, still clinging to the lapels of his shirt, and looked up into his eyes. "I've waited years for you Harry, I'd wait twice as many more. I don't care what it takes, just come back to me- promise."

Harry's hand slipped from behind her neck to cradle her face, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Gin, I can't promise that."

Ginny's eyes widened and her hands tightened on the collar of Harry's shirt. "But I need to hear it, so _I_ can go on!"

Harry forced a smile, although the tears threatened. He could believe Ginny, she would wait, of her own accord, and she believed in him. "I could never really leave you," he began, rubbing the pads of his thumbs across her cheekbones. "-ever. Dumbledore made it clear to me that I understood that I have choices in this world; when I defeat Voldemort, I'll _choose_ to come home to you, I promise."

Ginny let out a little whimper as Harry brushed his lips across hers, closing the remaining distance between them. They stood under the starry sky with their eyes closed, and their warm lips hesitantly pressed together. Unable to withstand the tender intimacy any longer, Harry inhaled sharply and kissed her fully and deeply. She looped her arms behind Harry's neck and stood up on tiptoe to meet the hungry craving of his mouth on hers. His hands dropped from her face and slipped around her waist, lifting her feet from the ground and holding her tight to his own body.

The breeze flirted over their skin, causing each of them to shiver, but not end their reuniting kiss; the band began another reel, but Harry didn't hear it, he only felt Ginny's fingers snaking their way into his hair, her fingernails gently grazing his scalp. He knew if he died tomorrow, or next month, or one-hundred years from now, Ginny Weasley would be the last thing on his mind. He was starting to believe himself; he _would_ choose to come home to Ginny, he would do anything necessary to keep that promise to her, to himself. She made everything better, and made Harry's task seem achievable. It made him realize he didn't need to defeat Voldemort for the Wizarding world, he only needed to do it for himself, and for Ginny. Was this love?

She ended the kiss when her toes touched the ground again, and she brushed the tearstains off her face. "Despite what you consider, I think you know what love is, and if you let me-" she paused so dramatically, and looked down at the ground before meeting Harry's eyes again. "I'll show you."

Harry couldn't help but smile, inside his heart was swelling with pride, emotion, and appreciation to the young woman standing before him. How in the world did he ever think he could convince himself to give her up. "That would mean the world to me."

"So what do we do now, Harry? I don't like pretending _we_ never happened. I don't like being apart from each other, and I hate not talking."

Harry felt a pang of sympathy, riddled with guilt. "I'm sorry for having to do this; it's not fair." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and began pacing. "I don't know what to do anymore, Ginny; I'm so confused. The task in front of me is so daunting."

"But, see-" she replied, founding on him, grabbing his shoulders as she spoke. "You don't have to go through it alone. Ron and Hermione are here, Luna and Neville would do anything you asked of them, and me, I'd follow your anywhere, and you don't even have to ask." Her voice had softened in volume and tone.

Harry found himself smiling. "Oh, Ginny, I know. You must believe that I don't worry for an instant about your skills, talents, or abilities; it's not that. You've all proven yourselves, you kept Hogwarts from being over-run by Death Eaters. I worry about myself. I think I would just give up if any harm came to any of you and what would I do then? Besides, neither you or Luna are of age yet."

Ginny made a face. "Don't you think it's a lot to expect from a seventeen year old? Defeating evil all alone?"

Harry was blushing and was glad the cloak of night was there to protect him. He was flattered that Ginny was offering herself up to his cause, a cause that was never intended for her at all. "Er, yeah, but the day I found out I was a Wizard my life changed so drastically, you can't imagine." Harry paused for a moment. "Can I tell you something?

"You can tell me anything," Ginny whispered, caressing Harry's face, and blinking back the tears lingering in her own eyes.

Harry sighed audibly and let his eyes fall shut at the touch of Ginny's hands on his cheeks. She seemed to have a way about her that filled Harry with an overflowing hope. The simplest word, the softest touch, the briefest glance could turn his whole day around. "According to Dumbledore, I have a power that Voldemort doesn't have."

Ginny's face brightened with hope. Her eyes widened and a genuine smile played across her face. "Oh, Harry, really? What is it?"

Harry swallowed hard. That beautiful look on her face was almost unbearable to look at. He turned away from her and stared at the façade of the Burrow instead. Harry had no clue how love was going to be a weapon, an asset, a triumph over evil; how should he tell her that he needed to put all his faith in an emotion he didn't know?

"Harry, what _is_ it?"

"Love,' he mumbled, staring down at a yellow spot on the lawn.

"What?" Ginny demanded, stepping around him to see his expression. She grabbed the sleeves of his robes, eager to get his attention; to force him to look her in the face. "Harry," she reiterated.

Harry sputtered and cleared his throat. He didn't dare meet Ginny's eyes yet, he was too afraid. Maybe she would think this as crazy as he did. "It's, er, it's love. Voldemort can't love. I'm not really sure how that all works out, but supposedly it does." He sighed and then held his breath, hesitantly looking up at Ginny.

"Harry, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him, pulling him tight to her chest.

"It is?" he asked stupidly, pulling away to gauge her countenance.

She slapped his forearm with a stunned expression on her face. "Of course it is, you prat. It's _something_ anyway, isn't it? Love isn't difficult, Harry."

"It is when you don't know how," he replied hollowly, kicking at the patch of dying grass.

The corners of Ginny's mouth turned up. "Why is it so difficult?" she asked, smoothing her hands over the shoulders of Harry's robes. "Falling in love is one of the easiest, happiest, magnificent aspects of life." She walked her fingers up Harry's shoulders to his neck, where she tickled him gently.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. He grabbed her hand and pulled Ginny back into his arms. "But how do you _know_ when you love someone?"

"Well," Ginny began, looping her arms around his neck, and biting her lower lip as she perused the idea in her mind. "I can only speak from my own experience, of course, but it's been the most wonderful experience of my life."

"A-and how many times have you, you know, fallen in love?" He looked down at the ground again, fearing her answer. Were there boyfriends he didn't know about? Was there anyone aside from Dean and Michael Corner? It was hard not to notice Ginny was more popular with one sex than the other.

She let one hand fall, and trail over Harry's neck again. She raised his chin with the back of her hand and met his eyes with her own. "Only once," she replied sincerely. "He's this noble git with a horrible burden on his shoulders. He doesn't understand how many people love him and how we're all just trying to help him get through. He has no idea how many people care for him. To some he's a brother, others view him as a son, he's a friend to many, and some think of him as a favourite student, or as the heir to old friends. None is more important than another, but dozens of people care, respect, and appreciate him and sometimes he fails to remember that. Aside from the occasional idiocy I spoke of, he's so smart, kind, brave, and good. I don't think he realizes those qualities either, but I'm working on that. I thought I knew him my whole life, but I didn't. I was familiar with a legendary boy who was born to be a hero and I had a huge crush on him that I thought was something else. I didn't really _know_ the boy I fell in love with until last year. I never dreamed the Boy Who Lived was moody or vulnerable sometimes. In my mind he was always valiant and strong, but in a bizarre way, that made my impression of him weak. I liked the vulnerable, emotional, occasionally grouchy, introspective version better; it made him real, and I started falling in love all over again."

Harry was pleasantly overwhelmed. A surge of _something_ was rapidly coursing through his veins; something strong, positive, and intense. He felt triumphant, like he did in the moment where he had first kissed Ginny so many weeks ago. His heart was thundering in his chest, and he realized he was holding his breath in. No one had ever been so honest and passionate with him, no one had ever said 'those three little words' in _that_ way before. Harry exhaled and tried to calm the feeling engulfing him, and awakening the beast inside him who had been dormant and moping since the day he left Ginny at the Funeral.

"But how did you know?" Harry asked, his voice cracking with nervousness.

"How could I not know? I spent every moment thinking of you, watching you, praying you'd notice me. You saved me from imminent death and I knew if I ever had the chance, I wanted to repay you. You were willing to risk your life for me, and I'm willing to risk my life for you. I wanted to be your friend, not just Ron's sister, and I wanted us to get to know each other as people, not as rumours, or legends. Even when I was with Michael, or Dean, my heart beat a little faster every time you were around. It's horrible of me to say it, but they were inferior replacements for someone I never thought I could be with." It was Ginny's turn to blush and look down at the ground. "I don't want to scare you."

Harry contradicted her immediately. "Gin, you aren't scaring me. I'm so flattered, and I just want to kiss you so badly right now."

Ginny stood on her toes and nuzzled Harry's nose. Her breath was soft as she whispered against his lips. "I knew before our first kiss that we had so much in common and that we could make each other happy, but when your lips touched mine it was like a seal of acceptance for my thoughts. I felt it, Harry; please tell me that you felt it too."

In a heartbeat his lips were pressed to hers and he was hungrily seeking that feeling she provided him with: hope, comfort, and faith. He wanted to relive the experience of their first kiss, that amazing feeling that had sent his spirit soaring. _Was that love? _It was true, he did think about her almost all the time, and she made him unbelievably happy. He would do anything for Ginny, that was a given, she would never have to ask. He never really wanted to break up with her, the feelings were definitely still there after they split. In fact, he had begun to think of them as a duo, as something that would last, in the long term. He couldn't imagine life without her. _Was that love?_ i

"Ginny, dear, are you out here?"

The voice that broke the warm, welcome, silence between them was a voice Harry instantly recognized, and would have appreciated under normal circumstances (and provided he wasn't joined at the lips with her daughter.) Mrs Weasley had rounded the corner of the house, and although his eyes popped open, Ginny's lips seemed to be melted to his. Her hands were grasping the collar of his shirt and robes, and she wasn't letting go. Harry had a fleeting worry that Mrs Weasley would chastise him for dating Ginny in the first place, subsequently breaking up with her, and then imposing upon her once again.

Mrs Weasley rounded the corner of the house with her hands firmly planted on her hips. "Ginny, everyone's- been- looking- for- you." Each word tumbled from her mouth slower than the previous one, as she gaped openly at the scene before her.

With much foreboding, Harry pried Ginny's hands away from his collar and tore his lips away from hers. "I'm sorry Mrs Weasley," Harry offered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and staggering away from Ginny.

"I, er, had no idea," Mrs Weasley replied with a bemused smile spreading across her face, as she clasped her hands together and brought them to her chest. "Harry, and Ginny?"

Harry's eyes quickly darted between Ginny, who looked like the Kneazle who ate the Snidget, to Mrs Weasley, who looked immensely surprised, and on the verge of happy tears. "I, er-" Harry stuttered.

A tear trickled down Mrs Weasley's cheek, "Ooh," she cooed, as she began fanning her face and babbling incoherently. "So happy… can't believe it… caught them kissing… thanking my lucky stars." Harry noticed she was recklessly waving about her hand, in which she was holding a glass of champagne.

"Mum, is there something you needed?" Ginny interrupted, folding her arms across her chest and raising her eyebrows as she glanced in her mother's direction.

Molly Weasley was positively beaming now, and Harry couldn't believe that Ginny was giving her mother cheek after getting caught kissing 'the Boy Who Would Break Your Daughter's Heart' in the front yard. "Are you two- no wait, you don't have to answer that." After recovering from a fit of laughing like a school-girl, she continued. "People have been asking for you, Ginny: your brother, Mrs Delacour- for the toast, Hermione, and- Pierre Delacour, not that he hardly matters now." Harry noted her poignant hesitation before speaking Pierre's name.

"OK, thanks Mum, I'll be right there," Ginny said coolly, with an air of maturity.

"Right," Mrs Weasley replied, trying to cover her wide grin with her hand as her eyes drank in the site of Harry and Ginny still standing near each other on the front lawn of the Burrow.

Ginny waved. "Bye, Mum."

"I'm really sorry, Mrs Weasley," Harry posed apologetically.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Molly and Ginny answered simultaneously, looking at one another.

"Well, I'll just let you two be. Rejoin the party soon, Ginny, dear. You've got obligations to your brother and sister-in-law," Molly tittered, smiling and backing away from the scene she'd interrupted.

"Oh God," Harry groaned, leaning over and taking in great gulps of oxygen as he pulled at his hair.

"What's the matter?" Ginny asked, ducking down to see Harry's face.

Harry looked up and caught a glimpse of the bodice of Ginny's robes hanging open, exposing the smooth, pale, freckled, cleavage that was uncharted territory as far as Harry was concerned. He felt his face heating up at a frantic rate and quickly averted his eyes. "Your Mother, Ginny," he hissed, trying to restrain taking another glance.

"Oh Harry, she's three sheets to the wind already, and besides, you saw how positively _thrilled_ she was. After all this time, you _should_ know Mum well enough to know that if she were angry, she'd give us hell." Thankfully, or maybe not so, Ginny stood up and patted Harry's back. "It's all right Harry, it's what Mum has always wanted, isn't it?"

"You never told her that we, er, were _together_?" Harry questioned, taking in deep breaths as he rose to his full height. So all his worrying had been for nothing? Had the Weasley's even known about he and Ginny in the first place? It occurred to him why no one had treated him differently all day.

Ginny beamed, and looked away bashfully. "No, that's the kind of thing you tell Mum in person. I was too happy to put it into written word, and I was trying to be _cautious_."

So they were once again back to Harry's 'noble' gesture; Ginny was afraid to tell her Mum they were together- just in case she and Harry broke up. "Look, Gin, I'm sorry. I don't exactly know what I'm doing here, but I know I don't want to be without you. I'm scared for me, and I'm scared for you. Please forgive-"

"Shh," Ginny whispered, pressing a finger to Harry's lips. "I know you're sorry, I don't need to hear it." She moved her finger aside to kiss his lips tenderly. "We'll figure things out, OK?"

She could have just as easily said she was about to stab Harry through the heart, and he would have agreed to it. He wanted her in his life, no matter what he needed to do to keep her there. She was in danger with, or without him. Using his scar as a means of detection was looking like a potential option.

* * *

Harry and Ginny rejoined the guests in the backyard, under the watchfulness of Ron, Hermione, and, unfortunately, Pierre Delacour. Harry couldn't bear to tear his eyes off Ginny as she gave a toast to her brother and sister-in-law. He didn't care who was observing him. As soon as Ginny raised her glass in a congratulatory toast to the happy couple, Harry was making a beeline to rejoin her, before Pierre Delacour had a chance.

Harry met her at the edge of the raised dais where the band was shuffling music and striking up another tune. "Dance with me," he whispered, slipping his hand into hers as the party ensued.

"OK," she replied, blushing slightly and biting her bottom lip.

They danced one, long, continuous dance, not granting any attention to jigs and reels, or waltzes and ballads, or to those dancing around them. They were garnishing quite a bit of attention now, as the newly conjoined family noticed that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, would not let go of Ginny Weasley.

Harry's and Ginny's gaze never faltered, their eyes were firmly locked upon one another's as they moved across the dance floor. Occasionally one would lean in and whisper hushed messages, but the words always widened the smile on both their faces.

Harry couldn't help but think, that despite how horrible his morning had begun, it turned out to be a joyous day. He'd left the Dursley's for good, witnessed his first wedding, and rekindled his romance with Ginny. It was unfair that his future was so uncertain, but from this point on, Ginny's safety would be at the forefront of his mind. He would do anything to protect her. A part of him wished she could accompany him to Godric's Hollow on Monday, but the thought of possibly endangering her was horrifying. Regardless, Harry knew he could believe her when she said she would wait for him, that they would find a way to work things out, and that she loved him. If it took him months or years to hunt down Horcruxes, she would be here, waiting, with open arms. Yes, that was love.

Harry stopped swaying in the middle of the dance floor and looked down into Ginny's eyes. The glow of the fairy lights reflecting into her brown eyes made them sparkle like liquid gold. He brushed the wispy locks of hair away from her face and tucked them behind her ear with a smile.

"What is it?" she asked sweetly, matching Harry's smile.

"Ginny, I-" Harry stopped, caught up in the emotion, and leaned in slowly to kiss her. Like with their very first kiss, he didn't care who was watching, he wanted to tell her exactly how he felt about her. Hours ago he had been uncertain, unaware, but now it was suddenly obvious; like an epiphany. But maybe it wasn't that sudden after all. Since his first kiss with Ginny, Harry had known something was _different_. It was unlike anything he had ever known. It was miraculously, beautifully, fantastically foreign, but instantly he had realized Ginny was more than just 'special,' she was perfect in his eyes. It had been love all along, but Harry had been too naïve to see it. "Ginny, I think I-"

"No, don't say it," Ginny whispered, shaking her head and silencing him with a swift kiss. "It's OK; I've had a long time to fall in love with you, you haven't had nearly that long. I don't need to hear it today, or tomorrow, or the day after that. I can see in your eyes that you care for me, and that's enough." She smiled encouragingly. "I love you, Harry James Potter, and I will be here, always be here. There's a pillar in your way, and when you dismantle that, I will be here, waiting to hear anything you might have to tell me."

"But Ginny, I already know that I-"

"Hush," she quieted him with another kiss and a grin. "I'm not sad, and I'm not angry. You're amazing, and I have such unbelievable faith in you. I know you'll do this- you'll win Harry, you'll find a way to defeat Voldemort and if you need me, need my love to do it, I'll be by your side, I swear. Until then, I will wait."

Harry was speechless. This person before him was remarkable. "I will need you, I promise. You do more for me than you can ever know. I'll come home, Ginny, I swear. I love you like you do me."

Ginny smirked and cradled Harry's face in her hands, and kissed him deeply. Her grin widened as she rested her head against Harry's chest, directly above his heart, and began dancing once again. She closed her eyes and listened to every beat of his heart and felt the unspoken emotion residing within it. "I know," she whispered.

* * *


End file.
